


Slingshot

by TheCapaldianEmpress01



Category: Peter Capaldi - Fandom
Genre: F/M, M/M, RPF, Scottish Actor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-21 03:22:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4813055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCapaldianEmpress01/pseuds/TheCapaldianEmpress01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter has read some of the fanfiction, but not the majority of it.  And definitely, not the M or E rated kind.</p><p>That is, until someone decides he really should read it.  He's going to get schooled in the art of smut...</p><p>He's going to enjoy it.</p><p>Now, if he could only remember what really happened.</p><p>Three are real...</p><p>Now, he's requesting his own...so he can make them reality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mistressterably](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistressterably/gifts).



> In this fic, Peter is divorced...I chose to write him like this for a reason, which will become clear as this goes on. So, before any get their holier than thou knickers in a twist, remember that this is fiction...it is FANTASY. If you do not enjoy RPF, don't read this. And yes, if you haven't figured out by the character tags, I, an Susanne Knight(it's my real name)
> 
> Also, the title comes from a little something I've experienced sexually...'slingshot' is the name of a sexual candy, so to speak. Comes in little tins, in various flavours(two of which will be used in this story), and looks like powdered sugar(confectioners sugar).

"Oi! You, Capaldi!"

Peter turned to see the wife of one his friends, running full tilt at him.

"Hannah?"

She stopped in front of him, a huge smile plastered on her face.

"I've something you need to read..."

Peter grinned at her.

"Ok?"

She smiled more. Something was very much up. Hannah never smiled this much, or, this weirdly at him.

"Yeah, you've not read this sort of thing before...well, you've read some of the fanfiction, but definitely NOT this particular kind of it."

He knew what she was referring to.

"Absolutely not!"

Hannah simply laughed at this.

"Oi! You will read it, you flippin' prude!"

Peter's jaw dropped.

"I am not a prude! And what makes you think you can make me read it?!"

She laughed again.

"Because, I say I can, I will, and you'll sit and read it."

"Really, how?"

"I've my ways, Capaldi." She poked him in the chest a couple times. "In one hour, you've a date with some very explicit fanfiction." Another poke to his chest. "Don't be late."

"Wait, what?"

But, she had gone off done the hallway, leaving him standing there, mouth open, and none to happy.

This was going to one very long night.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

An hour later, Peter was wandering down the same hallway. He stopped mid-way, looked about, and shrugged. He was here, but where was Hannah?

Peter was just about to wander off, when a door on his left was flung open, and a hand shot out to yank him into the room. Once in, the door slammed shut, and he was face to face with a Cheshire Cat smiling Hannah.

He glared at her.

"Nice way to get me into a room..." he huffed slightly.

"And, nice to see you arrived at the appointed hour, Capaldi." She crossed the room, sat down in a chair in front of a laptop, and began typing. After a moment, she chuckled, got up and walked back to him.

She smiled almost evilly at him, before propelling him over to the chair, and unceremoniously parking him in it.

Peter protested this rough treatment.

"You could've just asked me nicely to sit down!"

Hannah snorted.

"Shut it, you prude." She leaned in, ran a finger over the little flat pad on the laptop, tapped it once, and a page opened. He glanced at the name.

'Archive of Our Own...'

Peter eyed it suspiciously.

Leaning round him, Hannah clicked on search box, typed in a name, and waited. Very quickly, a name popped up below the box. She clicked on it, and chuckled.

"I'll start you out slowly..."

"Oh good." Peter muttered sarcastically.

She glanced at him briefly.

"Ever since your divorce, you've turned into a raging prude!"

"I am not a fucking prude!" He hissed back at her.

"Right, and I'm Mother fucking Theresa..."

"Hardly." Peter scoffed.

"Prude."

Peter rolled his eyes and turned back to the laptop. The screen displayed a new page of site. He tilted his head, and studied it.

Hannah grinned.

"See the name?"

"Yes."

"What's it say?"

He leaned forward a little to better see it.

"Mistressterably."

"Uh-huh." She scrolled for a second, then clicked randomly on a title. "I'll start you out with this one..."

Peter looked at the screen. His eyes widened a bit as he read the title and summary.

" 'Obedience Is A Given?'" He stared at it.

"Part one of 'The Willing Slave'" Hannah grinned. "Not you, so to speak, but the Doctor."

"Um..." Peter continued to stare at the screen.

"Just read this. When you're through with that one, randomly click on other ones. Read those, too."

He nodded in defeat. He was just going to have to suck it up, and read these. Hannah wouldn't leave him alone until he did, and even worse, she'd continue calling him a prude.

(...if you can't beat 'em...)

Hannah laughed in his ear slowly. It made one of his eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"What now?"

She laughed again.

"When you're finished with Mistressterably's wonderful, and quite dirty, fic..."

"Yes?" Peter turned to look at her.

"Well, I'll have you read a few from a lovely writer by the name, Serafiend."

"Interesting name. And?"

She leaned in closer to him, her lips next to his ear, and laughed once more.

"You won't be a raging prude after reading two of her stories, Capaldi."

(...join 'em.)


	2. It's Raging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If it's going to happen...
> 
> ...it'll happen.

Two hours into reading fanfic, and Peter had somehow become very interested, if not fascinated, by it. It was the very, very explicit kind, it was very, very dirty and damn...

...it was about him.

Hannah had switched the randomness of the stories from the Doctor to Malcolm Tucker to the Cardinal, but had, after he'd read a substantial amount of those, to something called 'real person fiction.' Fandom, 'Peter Capaldi.' 'Scottish Actor.'

Oh yeah, it was definitely all about him.

And, it was very, very, very explicit stuff.

Peter had read a handful of these stories by various writers, and had just started in on one extremely interesting piece, when Hannah switched it yet again. It still was about him, but this time...this time, she did as she had promised him earlier. She would introduce him to a writer by the name of, Serafiend....

She clicked on the name, and it pulled up over a dozen different stories...he glanced at some of the titles.

'Propelled.'

'Dare.'

'Gift Box.'

Those were short, or as they were termed, 'one shot,' pieces. Further down, Hannah had clicked on one called, 'Mad As A Scottish Hatter,' and smiled at him.

"Read that one first.'

"Why this one first?' Peter had started reading the summary, but stopped and looked at her in a quizzical way.

"Just going to ease you into Serafiend's work, best way to do that, is with the Hatter story. When you finish it, I'll move you into the, shall we say, more dirty minded smut."

"Such as?" He went back to reading the story's summary, giggling softly.

 

Hannah cocked her head, grinned and went and sat down across the room. She picked up her mobile, tapped its screen once, then looked up at him.

"Two stories in particular...one called 'Sugar,' and another one called, 'Honey.' As, I said earlier, once you read a couple of her stories, you will not be a prude."

Peter nodded, scrolled up, and started to read. A few minutes in, he was giggling softly.

"Oh, I don't...no, rhey did not do that to me, I mean, the Doctor!"

Hannah shook her head as she listened to Peter's running commentary. Despite his feeble protests at reading this type of fanfiction, he now seemed to be enjoying it.

But, she was waiting for an altogether different reaction from him, and that, wouldn't happen until he read those two particular stories. Though, when he had been reading Mistressterably's work, she had noticed him shifting himself round in the chair, and if she was not mistaken, and she knew she wasn't, he had let out an audible sigh here and there. Not to mention, a very frustrated moan or two.

"Oh my, I'm the Caretaker? Oh, I'd like to take care of this Ivy character...redhaired, fiery and, Scottish! Mmmm..."

Hannah chuckled. Yes, he was most certainly changing his tune about reading smutty fanfic about himself...

A few minutes later, he had voluntarily clicked on one of those stories. For awhile, he didn't say much. He shifted about in the chair several times, grunted obscenities, ran shaky fingers through his silver curls, shifted more...

Then, he moaned loudly.

Hannah looked up from her mobile at him.

"You ok, Capaldi?"

Peter grunted, shifted more in the chair, and shook his head.

"Oh. My. Fucking. God." He drew out the words in one long, guttural moan.

She smiled.

"I take it then, you're reading 'Sugar?"

Peter ran his fingers along his thigh, shifted again, and nodded.

"Yes...oh fuck.."

Hannah chuckled knowingly.

"Ah, must be at the bit where she's sucking you off, yeah?"

He groaned.

"Yes..."

"Enjoying it, Capaldi?"

"Oh fuck...I...fuck me..."

"Honey, I know damn well she'd love to."

Peter sat up in the chair, spun it round to face her, a very strange look on his face.

"Excuse me?"

Hannah looked up.

"I happen to know the writer personally and, so do you."

Peter's blue eyes widened. Hannah noted he had strategically placed a pillow over his lap.

"I know Serafiend? How?"

"She's described herself in the story...actually, she's done that in ALL her stories about you...you mean, a redhaired, green eyed Scottish lass isn't ringing any bells yet?"

Peter blinked at her, repositioning the pillow on his lap, and groaned. Oh no, no...not...it couldn't be, could it? Oh fuck, and he already had the hots for her...

"Ah, so I see it is ringing a few bells in that head of yours!"

"Fuck..." Peter spun the chair back round and went back to reading.

She let him read for awhile, listening to him moaning and sighing. At one point, she watched him snake his hand under the pillow and massage himself slowly.

She smiled.

"If you're going to wank off, I'll leave the room, Capaldi."

He moaned in reply, but his hand stayed where it was.

"Fuck...god...I'd love to get her in that position...kiss her like that..."

"Mmmhmm...."

"Right now, I'd let her ride me in this chair...fucking me as hard as she wanted..."

Hannah nodded.

"That can be arranged, you know..."

"Oh god..."

Hannah chuckled slowly.

"I see you now know exactly who she is..."

Peter mumbled incoherently, his hand still massaging himself slowly...

"Yes..."

"You really have the hots for her now, don't you?"

He let his head drop onto the table next to the laptop, hand still massaging...

"Fuck yes..."

Hannah got up, crossed to where he sat, and leaned down to his ear. He was literally panting with frustration.

"I'll give you a few minutes so you can, uh, satisfy your desire."

Peter moaned softly.

"Thank you...fuck me..."

"I won't, but she will..."

He moaned again.

"Oh fuck, I wish she was right now..."

Hannah laughed, patted him on the head, and left room. 

When she was gone, Peter sat there for a long time, his hand massaging a bit harder now. He muttered in frustration.

"Damn you, Susanne..."


	3. Sweet Little Sugar...And, Honey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At that moment...that right moment...at the impact of orgasm...being launched off a cliff into the dark expanse of space...
> 
> But...
> 
> Was it real?
> 
> Or, just his imagination running wild?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is quite possibly, my favourite so far. The stories with this story tell a tale...
> 
> Is that tale real? Did it happen? And what, exactly, is 'Honey?' Peter keeps reading the explicit fanfiction about himself...various writers of it, but he is overly fascinated by two of them, and one, in particular.
> 
> He knows her.
> 
> He's been with her.
> 
> He just can't quite remember how...
> 
> **AS ALWAYS THIS IS PURE FANTASY. NO DISRESPECT IS INTENDED TO PETER CAPALDI IN ANY WAY, SHAPE OR FORM...so keep your hair on, walk away if you don't want to read this, and don't be a whiny arsed twat. I'm allergic to that shite.

Hannah peered over Susanne's shoulder at the laptop screen. She grinned faintly.

"You think he's read it yet?"

The redhead shrugged.

"Don't know."

Hannah nodded.

"And when he does?"

Susanne looked up, a slight shrug of her shoulders said much.

"Maybe he'll remember..."

Hannah chuckled.

"Peter simply believes he's reading a bunch of stories. Smutty and dirty ones, but just stories..."

Susanne muttered.

"Aye, but three of them, Hannah..."

The other woman smiled ruefully.

"Actually happened. He just doesn't remember it, at least, not completely."

"What does that mean?"

Hannah tilted her head, and grinned slowly.

"What it means is, he knows he came here..."

"Aye, he did."

"He knows he rented a car and just drove...he knows he checked into a seedy little motel..."

Susanne nodded.

"The one across the road from the pub..."

Hannah's fingers tapped the back of Susanne's chair loudly.

"Indeed. He also remembers meeting you...the only problem being..."

Susanne shifted uneasily.

"He believes them to be but mere stories that Mistressterably wrote for me, right?"

Hannah nodded.

"Yes, Peter believes them to be just stories. 'Clancy's After Hours' and now the sequel to it..."

"Does he even remember the other visits he made to see me?"

Hannah laughed softly.

"I told you at the time, when I handed that little purple tin to you, on his second visit, not to give him so much of it..."

Susanne's green eyes widened slightly.

"I only gave Peter what you said was a safe dosage!"

"True, you did. But, what neither of us counted on, was his natural curiosity. Peter was enjoying the feeling it gave him. Of course, you told him what it would do..."

"I did."

"Now, every time he fucks himself after reading the fanfic, he's feeling as if he's being launched off a cliff into space! At the impact height of his orgasm, he's weightless, hanging in space..."

"But, he's only experiencing that alone, yeah?"

Hannah shook her head vigorously.

"No, Susanne, he isn't. Least not from what he's told me...every time it happens, you are there. He's had the hots for you ever since that first night at Clancy's..."

"I know the feeling, Hannah."

"Yes, I know you also, have the hots for Peter. Especially, after he finally took you back to his room...once he fucked you properly, as he said he wanted to do, it was all over for the two of you, wasn't it?"

Susanne muttered softly at this.

"I wouldn't say it was all over. I mean, he did come back again."

"And, again and again..."

"He just doesn't remember it."

Hannah nodded. She pulled a chair over, and sat facing Susanne. She pointed at the laptop.

"Peter believes they're all just stories by Serafiend and Mistressterably. Perhaps, if you changed 'Honey' up a bit?"

"Changed it up? How?" Susanne eyed her friend thoughtfully.

"Make it so it explains it...give Peter the clues he needs to help him remember."

"I see...but, what if he reads, or has already read, 'Propelled?'"

Hannah laughed softly.

"He won't read it."

"How do you know that for sure?"

Again, her friend laughed.

"I hid it away from him. He won't see it...and, if he somehow stumbled upon it, well he'd think it was just a story like all the others. That particular story of yours is safe from the sensual gaze of Peter Capaldi."

Susanne shook her head, but accepted her friend's assurances on the matter.

"So about 'Honey'"

"Just rewrite it. Make it simple enough for him...to be able to pick out those clues. And when he does, well..."

"Peter will, hopefully, remember." Susanne had turned back to the laptop as they spoke, pulled up 'Honey' from a file, and had deleted everything from it. Only the title now stared back at her.

Hannah gazed at her thoughtfully.

"Hopefully."

"Aye, hopefully..."

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

'HONEY' by Serafiend

Many stories.

Peter Capaldi.

Fanfiction.

Fantasy.

Three of them are real.

'Sugar.'

'Clancy's After Hours.'

'Back to the Bar.'

You came across that ocean...

Once...twice...

Twelve times.

Moment of orgasmic impact..launched off that cliff into space...hanging there, weightless and naked...

Do you still feel me, Peter?

Only three are real.

Serafiend.


	4. Launched

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He keeps reading and reading...
> 
> 'Three are real...'

Peter set his laptop aside, fumbled about for the piece of paper Hannah had given him, grinning when he finally found it.

'Sugar.' 'Honey.'

Links to these two particular stories. He'd only read the first one...

At least a half dozen times, to be exact. Read it so much, he could recite every single word, line...

Ah yes, he could see every single thing she did to him.

Could feel it.

So real, so utterly real feeling.

Peter especially enjoyed the bit where that terribly beautiful redhead, sucked him off in the driver's seat of his rental car. 

He wanted to read that bit again. And, again.

But, as he smiled at this dirty visual in his head, he knew he didn't really need to read it. It was on instant replay constantly...over and over in his head. He was replaying it now...

God, was it dirty. Perverted. Explicit. Sensuous.

And, he could feel it. As if she was on her knees before him, her pretty little mouth fucking him...sucking him...milking him dry.

But no, it wasn't her mouth, it was his own hand...and each and every time this visual replayed in his mind, he'd find his hand creeping downward, unbuttoning, unzipping and roughly stroking himself.

Fucking himself senseless.

Peter had happily fucked himself senseless for an hour and a half...he found himself eagerly wanting to do so now.

Dirty visual.

A soft ping from his laptop, drew his attention away from that redhead's mouth on his cock to a notification of a new email. He grunted in annoyance, and tapped the little box.

It was from Hannah.

'Oi, Capaldi...new stories...ao3. Read them you dirty little fuck. -Hannah.'

Peter stared at the links she had proved.

One from Mistressterably...

'Back to the Bar.'

And one...

Serafiend.

Susanne.

'Honey.'

He stared a moment longer, then clicked on the first link.

Back to the bar...

Peter read it slowly. So slowly in fact...

He blinked.

Did he really do that?

Sucked off another man?

He blinked again.

Yes.

A tiny lightbulb went on in his head.

Clancy's.

That drink.

That guy.

And, her.

Peter was horny as hell now...great...it was an arousal he hadn't anticipated right at that moment...

He closed his eyes...the visuals started playing immediately. Him, sucking off this strange man, obviously he had enjoyed it, but...

What Peter really wanted...what he now craved so badly he could literally feel it, was her. She was there. He had watched her the whole night. That damn bloody drink...

He had been there before. With her. Oh, he remembered that...decided to drive himself where he needed to go...stopped for the night, got a room in a motel...took himself over to the local pub...

And there, she was...

Things had happened, of course...he had wanted it to happen. She had given herself to him as if he were a god.

Hmmm...

Rock God.

Her very own silver haired god.

He opened his eyes, looked down to see his hand stroking his cock, and smiled.

Oh he'd be her god, alright.

Every. Single. Night.

"Mmmm..." He stroked his cock a bit more roughly. 

The story ended on an interesting note.

He stared at it, continued stroking his cock, and clicked on the last link.

He'd figure out that first ending, later.

'Honey.'

Oh honey...yes...yes...

She was definitely his honey. And anything else he wanted her to be. He lapped her up.

He fucked himself happily, roughly...just about there...so close...

Peter turned his head slightly to stare at the screen.

His eyes widened.

'Do you still feel me, Peter?'

He was so close now...

"Oh god I do...fuck yes I still feel you!"

Peter felt as if he'd been launched from a cliff just as he came...off into space...he was utterly weightless...naked...exposed...

She was there.

He still felt her.

Taste her.

He'd be her god.

Oh yes...Every. Single. Night.

He just needed to back.

He'd fuck her properly all over that bar...his room...

'Three are real.'

Peter remembered now.

He was hard again. He'd fuck himself willingly until he crossed that ocean again.

And this time...this time, they would hang in space together.

Peter would be her god.


	5. When He Posted That Message To That Inbox

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He didn't post messages. Especially, to fanfiction sites. He just didn't do that.
> 
> Today was the day when he did. He wanted her to realise he knew.
> 
> He remembered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know the drill. Don't like, don't read.
> 
> Enjoy!

'Serafiend.'

'TheEmpressBrennan01.'

He stared at the two names. Two different pseudonyms, pen names...

Same woman.

Same ...

He continued staring at the names. Which one did he send a message to? Should he use her name? 

Would it matter?

It mattered to Peter, of course. If he chose the wrong one, he could end making an idiot of himself...that wouldn't be a good thing. And, if he chose the right one...

It had been a little over twenty-four hours, since he'd come to his decision to send her a message. She needed to know that he knew...that he remembered what had happened in that pub that fateful evening, and that it wasn't going to be the end.

Peter remembered it now. 'Three are real...' Oh yes, they were real alright. But they, Peter thought, are the past. When he sent his message, and she accepted...

He stared at the names again. Closing his eyes, he jabbed a finger towards the laptop screen. When he opened them again, his finger pointed at one name...

Peter smiled slowly. Time for the message to be sent...simple and to the point...

'Three are real. 

Clancy's.

After Hours.

You and me.

I remember.

See you in three days, Susanne....

Peter.'

He glanced at the name he'd chose to send it to...TheEmpressBrennan01...

Susanne.

As he clicked on send, he smiled thoughtfully. Perhaps, he should send a request to her friend, the one who had put his fantasy into words? 

Mistressterably.

Perhaps, but...

No, she'd think him a nutter, if he requested a smutty story involving himself. 

Perhaps...

He clicked on her name, found the message box, and carefully typed out his request. When he was completely satisfied with it, he hit send. 

'...a small request...from me...

I know this sounds absolutely daft, but if you have the time...

Clancy's After Hours...something along those lines...

The smuttier, the better...

Just me and her....

It's to be, as they say, roleplayed...'

Peter stuck one long, slender finger in his mouth, sucked on it for a moment, then went back to The Empress Brennan's page. Finding the area for messages again, he typed out a second one to her...

It was short...but, she would understand...

'Your god is coming.'

He felt that now very familiar twitch between his legs whenever he thought about her. She wanted a rock god...

His hand crept downward...unbuttoned, unzipped...and...freeing his cock...slow strokes...faster until he felt himself being launched off that cliff as he came...hanging in space...floating...

As Peter continued stroking his cock, he glanced over at the little purple tin Hannah had given him...

'Slingshot.'

He stuck a finger in the sugary goodness and then, into his mouth. He moaned softly...it wasn't a drug...it was candy...SHE, was the drug...

He stroked his cock a bit more roughly...three days...he wouldn't have to fuck himself then...

She wanted a rock god...

Peter could deliver that in full.


	6. Thunder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The messages were loud and clear.
> 
> He knew.
> 
> And he remembered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I just rewrote this entire chapter...and you know the drill.

She stared at the first message. She hadn't imagined he'd send her the first one. Not in her wildest dreams of him, did she ever think Peter Capaldi would go so far as to send her a message.

But, he had.

Still, Susanne was not under any illusion that he'd go even further, and send a second one.

But, he had.

She let her gaze slip to the second message. She hadn't really gotten over the first one yet, and here she now sat, staring in disbelief.

Three days?

She only had three fucking days until he showed up? Now this was torture...

She wanted a god. He would be that god. That, he made especially clear to her. She wanted it desperately, and Peter would give it to her.

Desperation was a weakness...

Peter was her weakness.

He knew this.

He remembered it. And, he planned to use it in all it's capacity. Three days.

Susanne clicked on reply, and when the box appeared typed five simple words.

He'd understand.

She hoped he would.

But, at the same time...

Secrets are meant to be kept. She had one. Peter was part of it. It was one he most surely did not yet know...

Oh, but in three days time...

He would.

Just as long as he could guess the secret she had.

'Your wish is my command.'

She clicked on send.

She wanted a god...

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thunder rumbled in the distance, as Peter made his wayto his flat from his car. It would rain before too long, and that was fine by him.

Thunderstorms made him feel alive....made his skin tingle...made a certain part if him twitch and throb with ecstasy.

Just as he reached his door, his phone vibrated. He looked down at it, touched the screen to see an email notification. Clicking on it...

It was from her. She had replied back to his messages...

Peter let himself into his flat, flung coat and bag into a nearby chair, and settled himself on the sofa. For a moment, he sat thinking about what her reply would be...

He opened the email, clicked the link to her reply, and waited.

Thunder rolled overhead...

When the reply appeared, a smile like that of the Cheshire Cat spread over his face.

'Your wish is my command.'

Peter tilted his head slightly. His wish...her command...ah, there was something in those words she chose to use.

But, what?

Peter had secrets he kept. Apparently, so too, did Susanne. His secrets could be a death knell to his reputation...if only they knew those secrets...

A loud peel of thunder shook his flat, lightning lit up the room in waves...

That certain part of him twitched and throbbed painfully...

Waiting to get his hands on her was becoming torturous to say the least.

Three days...

He heard the rain pounding against the windows...his cock throbbed more as another powerful peel of thunder shook the flat. It twinned it's way to the very core of his being...it was torture.

Three days...

He got up, retrieved his laptop from the table, and resettled himself again. Finding what he wanted, he clicked on the name...

Mistressterably.

He clicked on message, typed quickly, studied his words, smiled, and hit send.

'I know that I sent one request already, but I have yet another...'

Thunder rumbled again...his cock throbbed in reply...his hand slipped downwards...unbuckled...unbuttoned...unzipped...free...

'Bondage. Torture. Me. Her. I want the experience of this with her. She wants a god...'

Peter stroked the shaft of his cock slowly, the dirty visuals playing in his head...

'What can you come up with? I believe you have watched that scene...the Doctor...hanging there...screaming...something based off that, perhaps?'

The visuals in his head changed...he could see it so clearly...

It wouldn't be her hanging there...on knees, begging...

His hand slid up to stroke the head of his cock. He moaned deeply...

Oh no...he didn't want her begging...that would be too damn easy...

His cock twitched as thunder sounded outside...pre-cum leaked into the palm of his hand...he stroked the head a bit harder, a low growl in his throat...

He leaned his head back, eyes closed...he could see the scene in his head. He was so close now...

Peter wanted to be the one...on his knees...begging...chained...screaming...he was, after all, good at it.

...wanted a god...

His body arched upwards off the sofa, so intense was this orgasm...the moan that had been building came out in a strangled scream...hot cum coated his hand...

...on his knees...screaming...begging...chained...

She wasn't the only one who had dirty secrets.


End file.
